


To Be Alone (With You)

by Eylisys



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alcohol, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Humor, Idiots in Love, Miraak Has Issues, Miraak Lives (Elder Scrolls), Miraak is an idiot - Freeform, Pining, Rating May Change, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, and there was only one bed, no beta we die like Miraak - except he lives in this one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28697130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eylisys/pseuds/Eylisys
Summary: For some reason, Miraak has not died, and the last dragonborn has decided that she can't just leave him on his own like that. Alternatively, "how Miraak learned to be a person after being stuck in Apocrypha for approximately 4 450 years". Alternatively alternatively, the part of my brain that's trying to be serious and the one that's trying to be a jester are fighting and the jester is winning.Still, I'm not quite sure what I'll include in later parts so rating/tags might change. I'm an adult writing for myself so u know. Also i was told having 20k words in your wip and the characters aren't together yet counts as slow burn so here we go ??????Also : if there's something that doesn't seem to make sense regarding official lore, it's probably that I don't know it.
Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Miraak
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuse for my bullshit besides that I physically have not been able to think about much else for like the past month. However I'm working not just on this fic but like. several at once. I might possibly be very inconsistent in tone throughout either this chapter or others because - the seriousness of what's going on depends on how i feel ? Hope it's enjoyable nonetheless. At least I enjoy writing it :^)
> 
> Also I definitely didn't proofread, so there may very well be uh. Grammar mistakes and such. I'm also still not a native english speaker, so that's like double the possible grammar mistakes ? Have fun!

Alyssa was running silently towards Raven Rock, carrying a dying man on her back. She had no idea how he had survived, nor how they both made it back to Tamriel, but there was a chance to save him and she would take it. Not that she thought he deserved it, just that she couldn’t just leave him to die like that. She couldn’t just leave people like that, unless she was forced to.

Even when they were people she had set out to kill, apparently.

The last dragonborn sighed as she approached the town. She slowed down, even if it might mean Miraak would bleed out longer. Being stealthy was the key here – even if she had not told everyone that she was on her way to go kill Miraak (what would have been the use of that ?), she would rather not have anyone see him. His mask was pretty recognizable after all, even if she doubted anyone in Raven’s Rock had seen him before. You can never be too careful when you’re bringing a criminal in your house and trying to avoid the guard while doing it.

Thankfully, she had arrived at the very moment guards were usually distracted by tiredness. She was a skilled enough thief to be able to pass through the gates without being seen, and stayed in the shadows as she half walked, half ran towards the Severin Manor. The moon was somewhat clouded, giving her ample cover to stay hidden, and she only relaxed a little as she gently opened her door and got home. But only a little.

She had to be swift, and she was a terrible healer. She might not be the greatest help for Miraak, but as long as he wasn’t awake, he was not able to heal himself. Her own skills would have to do.

She carried him to the room she did not sleep in – she would hardly call it a guest room as she usually had no one around to welcome, at least not in Solstheim – and put him down on the bed. After that, she carefully removed his robes, leaving him his mask and pants, to uncover the damage that she had done during their fight. It was pretty nasty, some of them were already infected, and of course she could pick out which ones had been made by her poisoned weapon. But now was not the time to regret the way she fought.

She tried to steady her breathing. Yes, she was terrible at healing spells. No, it would not stop her from trying, as soon as she would have cleaned the wounds. She wasn’t sure what to do for the infected ones, but she’d figure it out. She ran outside of the room to take something to clean the wounds – alcohol ? soap ? what was most effective ? She did not know, and in doubt, took both, while grabbing a towel and water to use with the soap. In a way, she also hoped that whenever Miraak would wake up – if he woke up – he would not realize she had entirely panicked and improvised.

Not that it’d worsen his view of her in any way.

Breathing in, breathing out. No, alcohol was definitely a bad idea – and she had grabbed a good bottle at that. It would be a waste to use it on something that it would ultimately be useless for. She then slowly started tending to the wounds, washing and rinsing them, healing whatever she could with the little skill she had. It took her too long for her to count, but when she was done patching him up as best she could, she had to fight herself to avoid passing out right then and there. She retreated into her room, half hoping the man wouldn’t die during the night, half hoping he would and she wouldn’t have a problem with him later on.

She practically let herself fall into her bed, not even pulling the sheets over herself.

When she awoke, her first thought was to check the time. She had no idea how long she slept and did not have a clock in Severin Manor. As she walked out of her house, the relative luminosity told her it was about mid-day. She stretched, before walking over to the marketplace to buy something nice to eat this morning. She didn’t feel like making food for herself, and Garyn Ienth was always selling tasty things.

They didn’t speak much, but Alyssa bought him enough food to last for weeks, which wasn’t that unusual for her. It was only when she got back home with everything that she remembered Miraak’s existence, and she let out a groan. She set down the food on the table near the fireplace, and walked downstairs to the room she put him in.

As a precaution, she knocked, but entered anyway when she didn’t get an answer. As she had imagined, he was absolutely not awake. She also realized that she had forgotten to put a bedsheet, or a blanket, or literally anything over him before leaving the night before – not that she cared, it was just the polite thing to do. She sighed and decided to do that now, at least. The wounds she had patched up seemed to not have reopened during the night, which was a blessing, as she wasn’t sure she would have been able to do anything else. It also mostly seemed like Miraak hadn’t moved at all during the night.

After tucking him in, Alyssa wondered how long it could take him to wake up. He was clearly still breathing, that wasn’t the problem – simply, if he did not wake up soon enough, she’d have to find some way to give him water or feed him while he was asleep, without accidentally making him choke. She sighed at the thought, and decided to go do… something to take her mind off of this and think about it later.

She had a lute somewhere in the house. Surely she could play something after she had eaten breakfast. Or, lunch, if she thought by the passage of time.


	2. Chapter 2

It was music that woke him up. The distant sound of a lute a few rooms over. He did not know for how long it had been playing, nor where he was, but he did remember that the last thing he had seen was that… silly little dragonborn’s sword rushing towards him. Again.

Was he dead ? Was that it, death, being in the dark hearing the sound of a lute ?

He scoffed at the thought and immediately felt a sharp pain coming from his abdomen. Broken ribs. Well, that at least meant he was alive. He didn’t bother opening his eyes yet, preferring to stay put. The broken ribs would be a problem for a little while, even with healing spells. Whatever had happened, a lot of those had already been used on him (by whom ? he did not know), and from what he could feel, the work was done by a shoddy healer. Interesting. Someone bad at magic and still caring enough to heal him ? That was not something he had expected.

Unfortunately, the only person that he had met lately who was terrible at magic and terribly strong-headed was the last dragonborn. And he surely did not think that _she_ of all people would try to help him. Or if she did she surely had a further goal in mind… a goal he would certainly not be pleased with. He had enough of being used for other people’s ideas.

He stewed in interrogation and mild anger for a while, before feinally opening his eyes and trying to sit. He grunted. The blanket that had been thrown over him slipped a little and he could clearly see the work of healing done by… whoever. It wasn’t very good, but he was agreeably surprised at the fact that it had survived his sitting up.

The room he was in was pretty empty besides a place where plants grew, some chairs and a table nearby… it was clearly unoccupied most of the time. Probably a guest room. He could see the door (closed) from where he sat, but knew that he could not reasonably be able to reach it yet. He’d have to check whether anything besides his ribs was broken first, and if nothing else was, he would most likely have to eat or drink something first. Now that he was seemingly out of Mora’s realm, hunger and thirst would become problems once again. Were currently problems. There was no way he would be able to stand up without passing out.

He decided to lay back down. There was no use in sitting there waiting for someone to come in besides wasting energy.

He drifted off to a half-sleep until the lute stopped playing. At that moment, he listened for any other sound – shuffling in the room behind the door, steps climbing up and down a staircase… until there was a soft knock on his door.

\- Come in, he managed to groan through the pain as he sat up again.

There was indeed the last dragonborn behind that door. Luckily, he had his mask on and she could not see the face he made upon seeing her. However, her face was very visible and it seemed as if there was a mix of relief and annoyance plastered on it. Neither of them was very happy to see the other, it seemed.

\- Ah, great, you’re awake, she started.

She approached, carrying what seemed to be a bowl of soup in her hands.

\- Take that. You’ll need it.

He did not answer as she put the bowl in his hands. She was careful, as if she feared being attacked, but Miraak was more curious than angry at this point. He cupped the warm bowl in his hands, and asked :

\- Why have you brought me here ? To taunt me, maybe ?

Alyssa shrugged.

\- Right, let’s taunt the annoying guy that can control other people’s minds, she said with a playful tone. That will absolutely end well. No, I just don’t like leaving people to bleed out, and if somehow you were thrown back into Tamriel with me there has to be a reason. Not that I like that I had to carry you all the way to my house, but even then, what if you had survived there and tried to kill a bunch of people afterwards ?

\- Not exactly feasible with broken bones, but sure. That said, it doesn’t look like you had any idea of what you were doing, so I shouldn’t have expected them to be healed…

\- ...do you expect me to know where bones are, Miraak ?

Her face, completely serious, made him pause. Surely she had seen skeletons at least once in her life. She had to be- yes, she was joking, as it was made clear by her suddenly laughing. The first dragonborn had to use all his restraint not to punch her in the face.

\- No, seriously, she said, I had no idea they were broken because I can’t exactly see under someone’s flesh. If you can, good for you, heal them yourself. You seem to be better at it than me anyways.

He tried to shrug, stopped mid-movement, and sighed. After that, he stared at her for a few seconds before asking :

\- ...are you going to stare at me while I eat ?

\- Nope. Just wanted to see if you had anything else to say. I’d rather not see the face of some four thousand year old weirdo.

And with that, she left. If he didn’t know better by now, he’d thank the gods for it, but instead he just removed his mask to eat. He hated to admit that he actually felt safer with it, but it was probably because he had spent so long wearing it. Still… how could he appreciate such token of his servitude this way ?

The soup was better than he anticipated. Alyssa was apparently a better cook than she was a healer. He guessed that it might be because she seemed to live on her own. Seemed. He had not explored the rest of the house yet – and wouldn’t be able to until he was certain to be capable of walking. He wondered for an instant about what he would do once that would be achieved, as depending on how quickly he’d recover he might not be able to sustain a long walk for some time. The thought of being stuck in the last dragonborn’s house for any longer was infuriating, but it unfortunately seemed like it had to be done.

Who knew, maybe he would find something useful to do with her. Surely there was a way he could manipulate her into not just tolerating, but helping him… after all, his recent loss against her did not at all make his thirst for power weaker. It was, in a way, even stronger now : if he could sway her to his will, he was certain to rule over more than just this tiny island. The thought made him smile.

Yes, there would be benefits to him being forced to stay here for a while. He just needed to not accelerate the natural healing process of his wounds too much.


	3. Chapter 3

Everything was dark and Miraak was falling. Thousands of screams, thousands of eyes, thousands of tentacles were chasing after him as he fell, deep, deep down into an unknown abyss made of tears and pain. He was trying to fly as hard as he could, but his wings would not respond, the wind was passing right through them – it is only when he looked at them that he realized they were only bones, bleeding and hurting.

He woke up in a cold sweat, sitting up abruptly and hurting himself in the process. He let out a hiss of pain, and tried to take some time to breathe while he curled up in a ball. It was nothing. Just a dream. Just a nightmare.

He hadn’t experienced a nightmare in thousands of years.

Sleep had not been needed in Mora’s realm, and he had forgotten how bad things could get once he was asleep. He hated it. Breath shaky, chest hurting, trying to regain a semblance of composure, he didn’t hear the soft knock at his door. Nor the second, slightly louder knock. He only realized that Alyssa was trying to get to him when she opened the door anyway and he saw the soft glow of the weapon she was carrying.

\- What do you want, grunted Miraak.

\- You were shouting in your sleep. I thought you were getting attacked.

She seemed worried for some reason, so the man tried to wave it off, muttering that it was nothing. Surely shouting could happen to everyone every once in a while, when…

\- Most regular people don’t _Shout_ shout, she cut him off. But I’m glad I won’t have to fight while just getting out of bed.

She said this as she put her weapon near the door frame, and walked towards Miraak. He did not react, still trying to get a hold of his breath. She sat near his bed, on the ground, turning her back on him, in an attempt to leave him some space. She hummed something he couldn’t quite make out for a few seconds, before whispering :

\- I did not know it was possible for you to get nightmares, seeing where you lived for. A while.

He scoffed.

\- You’re not the only one who’s surprised. Even if I should know better by now.

She turned towards him slightly, with an interrogating glance. His only response was to roll on his back, staring at the ceiling. He did not want to speak, much, but in a way her presence now could help him. Not just to calm down, although this was already well underway, but maybe to get her to talk on her own, which might let him learn something useful.

He did not need to try and stir up a conversation himself, though.

\- When I was little, I got a lot of nightmares, she softly said. I don’t assume they’re anything like… whatever you had tonight, but mom would come to my room and talk to me until I fell back asleep. She’d usually bring a lantern, too, but… well. I don’t have one and I don’t know if that would help you. I guess it’s not childish “i have a monster under my bed” things that you dream about.

\- Just about anything seems to be helping right now, he whispered back. Even you talking.

Alyssa let out a chuckle, surprised.

\- I had no idea you could be so agreeable. Do you reserve that for special occasions ?

She was now definitely turned towards him, an arm on the bed, her chin resting on said arm. She seemed relaxed, which prompted the other one to shift a little, turning towards her to look at her instead of the ceiling. He let out another hiss from the pain, but still managed to find a position that worked while the other rolled her eyes.

\- You don’t have to look at me just to be polite if it hurts, you know.

He didn’t even try to shrug, knowing it would hurt, and instead elected not to answer. She had already shown her ability to talk about random subjects on her own, and she effectively kept going even without getting an answer.

\- Still, it’s quite surprising to see you try to be nice. I wasn’t certain that existed for you. Although I’m still not sure whether you’re just trying to get me to not murder you in you sleep by doing that.

\- As if you had the emotional capacity to murder someone in their sleep, he remarked.

The look she gave him, long and unyielding, was unexpected. So was her answer.

\- You don’t know me _that_ well just because we fought each other, Miraak. I am not a complete idiot and I will not hesitate if I think you are a threat to others.

As she spoke, she ended up poking him on his chest with her right finger.

\- I’m not really convinced you’ve learned anything from that whole getting your ass handed to you thing, even though I’m willing to give you a chance. Because you know, people can change and all. If they’re willing to try.

Letting himself be poked, but not enjoying it, Miraak remarked that he was not exactly an expert on change, as he hadn’t seen much of that happening in his life. The concept that people could change was somewhat alien to him, as he had not really thought about it as much as the other seemed to, and she in turn didn’t seem so sure about going on about the subject. He decided to press her a little.

\- So what is your idea ? Shaping others to fit how you view the world ?

As he said that, he gently grabbed her hand to stop her from poking. It was getting annoying.

\- I thought that was more along the lines of what you did. No, it’s just…

She paused for an instant, considering possible wordings, before shrugging and getting her hand back from the other.

\- Everyone changes all the time, Miraak. I’ve changed to fit whatever people needed of me to try to help them, even when it was unreasonable. Then I’ve changed to try to take care of myself, but it backfired a little. Now I’m kind of lost and not sure what I’m doing. I just know I try to be kind as much as I can – and yes, I know it’s ironic coming from the person who threatened you less than five minutes ago, don’t mention it.

She passed her hand through her hair, still thinking, not quite sure what to add. Then she looked straight at him.

\- You’ve probably changed too, honestly. Imagine telling a younger self about literally anything of your present now… I don’t think he would’ve been able to anticipate any of it.

Miraak looked away, slightly cringing at the words “past self”. He did not want to think about that, and yet here he was listening to Alyssa’s words. Would his past self have planned for him to be stuck in someone’s house, trying to get their trust to use them for his own goal ? Probably not. But his goals, his goals were the same. Only his way of getting to them would have to change again.

\- Not as much as you’d think, he simply said.

Alyssa chuckled. It seemed as if there truly was a person behind that mask – and maybe he wasn’t as desperate as she had assumed when she first understood what he was going after, but he was as rigid. She stretched, then slowly got up.

\- You say that like you’re not tolerating my presence here. Good night.

She patted him on the shoulder, before walking towards the door and picking up the sword she had been carrying earlier. When she looked back before closing the door behind her, Miraak hadn’t moved at all, but she could not tell whether he had managed to fall asleep very fast or didn’t feel like hurting himself again. Most likely the latter.

As she left, the first dragonborn thought that he might get to live interesting things if he stayed for a little longer. She seemed to have a lot to say… and he knew that if one thought too much, they might lose sight of their ideals. He had seen it happen a lot of times. Thinking, thinking, and not doing anything else, did sometimes lead people to do things they had not wanted to at first.

People change, as Alyssa said. But it was not always for the better, unlike what she seemed to think.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which my jester dumbassery is getting worse

It was about midday, and Alyssa was playing on her lute, not feeling like making food at the moment. It had been three days now since she had brought Miraak to her house, and she was relieved in the fact that no catastrophe happened yet. Sure, there had been that whole “dragon shout while having a nightmare” thing the other night, but that had not happened again. The only thing she was slightly concerned about was that she knew he was probably able to mend bones – she had broken his arms enough times during their fight to know that – and yet he seemed like he hadn’t even tried to heal his broken ribs.

It seemed oddly intentional and it rubbed her the wrong way. As she played a little tune, her mind wandered over possible reasons he might not try to heal himself. Were ribs just hard to heal ? Or did he have something to do here in Raven Rock, and simply tried to stall for time ?

\- Do you have a bathtub ?

Miraak’s voice behind her surprised her enough that she almost threw her lute on the ground and thought of scrambling for a weapon before remembering that yes, he existed, and that yes, he probably still had legs. As proven by the fact that he was standing behind her. She took a few seconds before regaining her composure, and turned towards him.

He had apparently found his robes, as he was fully dressed, and he was apparently using a wall as a help to stand up.

\- Yeah, she answered, I probably have one somewhere.

She gestured vaguely towards some corner of the house, and got up.

\- I’m guessing you’re not asking just as a matter of fact, so… I guess I’ll get it out ? And then get water ?

\- That would be nice.

She put her lute away, while thinking that she probably ought to take a bath too (preferably after he was done), and as she got the tub, asked :

\- One question ! Do you want it to be in your room.

\- I don’t care, she heard from the other side of the house.

\- Great. I don’t feel like dragging the thing all the way there, since I also have to get water, so. You’ll be bathing in here.

She heard shuffling as the other made his way to the room she was in, and she asked him to wait while she’d go get some water at the well in Raven Rock. She also took it as an opportunity to get more water than needed for one bath, just in case – you never know when you need water. Well, usually when you’re thirsty, but medieval world obliged that sometimes wine was safer than water for drinking. Unless you were boiling it, but she’d usually boil water for soup.

When she got back, Miraak was sitting on the ground near the tub, looking kind of lost (as lost as one could look with a mask). As she filled it, she remarked :

\- ...you should probably wash your clothes also. They’re full of blood.

\- It’s dry.

\- It’s _stinky_ , that’s what it is.

After she was done, she asked him if he had any spare clothes (while absolutely knowing he didn’t), and when he replied with the negative, she went searching for something that could be about his size in her room. She wasn’t small, and there had to be one or two centimeters of difference between them, but they still weren’t exactly built the same and she wasn’t certain that she had clothes that would fit him. But as she tended to loot a lot of things everywhere and to wash whatever clothes she found, she assumed she’d eventually find something.

On her way back, she also grabbed some towels.

\- Here’s some clothes for afterwards, she started while throwing the clothes at Miraak’s face, and a towel. And another one if you’re washing your hair.

She also threw the towels at him as he made no attempt to catch anything.

\- I will burn you if you throw anything else at me, he declared.

\- The soap is over there, the water should be hot, have fun !

She beamed at him and turned around, leaving the room and adding :

\- I’ll be in my room if you need me.

He stayed on the ground for a little bit longer, getting the towels and clothes out of his face. After that, he checked the pants and tunic – they were pretty simple, and might fit. He put them away as he arose, and stripped down of his own clothing, putting it in a pile. He checked for any mirrors in the room, and turned the only one he found towards the wall. He didn’t feel like looking at his own face. He then felt comfortable enough to take off his mask, and he put it with the fresh clothes lent by Alyssa.

As he slipped into the tub, he realized how much he had missed the feeling of warm water on his skin. Apocrypha had been cold, and its waters… he had never been quite sure whether they really were water or not. It dawned on him that, because of that, he had actually not taken a bath in… almost four thousand and five hundred years.

It was no wonder that the feeling of water, warmth, and soap were so distant to him now. He spent a long time sitting in the water, slowly cleaning every inch of himself, enjoying the smell of the soap given by Alyssa. He hadn’t smelled flowers in a long time either. He was not certain he had ever truly taken the time to appreciate such a smell, even when he was at the highest of his power. It most likely had just been one other pointless detail to him.

He paused.

Since when did he care for such little things ? Isolation in the realm of a daedra really did things to people, apparently. He wasn’t certain of the importance of it, though. Appreciating something he had been deprived of for a long time was certainly not something to snicker at, he reasoned.

He soaked in the water for a long enough time that Alyssa came knocking to check if he was still alive. She had the tact of not coming in though, and retreated when he informed her that he was simply enjoying himself. He only got out after he realized that he almost drifted off to sleep several times, and that maybe sitting there until the water became cold was not the greatest idea he’d ever had. After getting out of the tub, and drying himself, he considered the clothes left by the last dragonborn.

It didn’t seem like she had an eye for fashion, as the clothes were fairly simple, but she apparently did have one for sizes, as what she had thrown at him actually fit pretty well. He put his mask back on, grabbed his dirty clothes, and set out to find Alyssa.

She was, as she had claimed she would be, in her room. She was apparently writing something down in a notebook, and her head perked up when she heard him greet her.

\- Out of the water ?

He nodded, then showed his clothes.

\- Do you have anything to wash them ?

She looked over, and told him to just find a bucket and fill it with water.

\- I hope you at least know how to wash blood, she added.

\- I haven’t had to in a while, but I don’t think I’ve forgotten. Thanks.

Alyssa’s eyes widened at the word that had been dropped such matter-of-factly by Miraak. _That_ was something she didn’t imagine coming out of his mouth, and she didn’t even try to say something witty in return as he walked carefully out of the room, still making sure he wouldn’t randomly lose his balance.

She closed her notebook, slightly annoyed. Something was definitely up with him, unless he really was an agreeable person when not actively trying to kill you. It simply did not strike her as likely. But calling him out on it seemed like a weird idea. She’d have to find a subtle way of getting at it, which wasn’t exactly her greatest strength. As she liked to put it, she was better at hitting people dead. And he rarely seemed to be in a mood to talk, which would make her idea of knowing what he was planning a bit harder to put in motion.

She groaned. Going at an enemy (did he still count as one ?) who was definitely better than her at thinking by trying to use her brain was definitely stupid, but it’s not like she could fight answers out of him, probably.

She might just have to find a way to gain his trust and make him talk.


	5. Chapter 5

Both of their goals were advancing slowly. Alyssa seemed eager to talk and shared tidbits about herself – like how she learned how to play the lute as a young child with her mom, and how she used it to calm down or think, or mishaps that had happened during her numerous travels that she found funny – yet none of this contained anything that truly interested Miraak, such as the current state of Skyrim which he had followed none of while he was in Hermaeus Mora’s realm, neglecting it in favor of Solstheim. On top of that, Alyssa clearly did not trust him nor the way he was currently acting, as he was not actively looking to murder her. He had to find some way to make her understand that he was not a threat anymore… or, maybe, for now.

He was thinking about this, sitting and sipping tea in the kitchen upstairs, when Alyssa came back from some errands (she kept running out of smithing materials somehow, and had also been saying she needed to buy alcohol for some reason), an annoyed frown on her face. She put away the things she had bought in a corner of the room as Miraak inquired, putting his mask back on his face quickly :

\- Did someone bring you bad news, Dragonborn ?

Despite her obvious annoyance, she had a slight smile at his enunciation of the title – it seemed to be amusing to her for some reason. She turned towards him.

\- It’s not really news, just a task I’ve been putting off doing for a while now. But, hey, I still have an excuse not to do it.

\- Excuse which is ?

This time, she presented him a real smile – that menaced to devolve into straight up laughing.

\- I’m making sure that this guy who attempted to kill me isn’t trying to take over Solstheim _again_ when I have my back turned, and also, the whole “but he has a bunch of broken booooones I can’t just leave him there !”

She seemed perfectly serious and proud of herself, which made Miraak chuckle. He had not even thought that her rescuing him might have had other implications than some random impulsive behavior.

\- So no plans for going back to Skyrim yet ?

\- Meh. No, but, I’ll send a letter at least, to let my friends know that I’m actually alive.

The man raised an eyebrow in surprise, even if it wasn’t visible behind his mask, and casually said :

\- It’s the first time you mention any friends. I was starting to think that you were the kind to keep to yourself – not that I’d mind.

She laughed at that last part, telling him that he was free to say it if he thought she talked too much. But as he clarified that this wasn’t what he’d meant, she let him know that she just hadn’t thought it was something she needed to tell him earlier. After all, she didn’t think they’d ever meet, unless he were to accompany her on her travels for some reason. She added that he didn’t talk much about himself, anyway, so why would she have to ?

\- That’s fair, he conceded. And who’s to say what the future holds ?

After saying this, he got up, taking his unfinished cup of tea with him and laughing as she stared at him dumbfounded. Just as he was about to vanish downstairs, she ran up to him and tried to ask him to clarify what he meant – but the only response he gave her was a wave as he got into his room. She sighed in frustration. This was nonsense. Was that what he wanted, actually ? Annoy her to death with weird statements ? She should’ve gone through with killing him in Apocrypha.

At this thought, it hit her that maybe all of this could be some kind of sick joke from Hermaeus Mora. Sticking his old, discarded champion in the face of the new one to see what she would do with him. She considered the idea, but did not ultimately know if that could be it – she, unfortunately, did not know enough about Mora in particular to be certain whether this was his style or not. It didn’t really matter, either. What counted was that she now had this guy in her house and apparently none of them had immediate plans (even though she was pretty sure he had some long-term ones still), which meant they kind of were stuck together here.

She got back up in the kitchen, and took out some wine that she had bought earlier. She poured herself a glass, considering what she should be doing next.

According to Serana’s letter, a notable number of the people she knew back in Skyrim thought something might have happened to her, including Paarthurnax. Whatever she’d answer, she would have to reassure them, but despite what she had told Miraak, she wasn’t certain telling Serana and everyone that she was keeping him at home for now was a good idea. But she could not go and meet with the Greybeards and take care of that whole… civil war thing with Miraak being a potential threat.

She sighed again. Why did they have to agree on having another meeting after Alduin was dead ? Both parties would have been better off hating each other in silence for the rest of their days. But on the other hand, asking for a truce was not the same as having peace on all of Skyrim. As it had happened a few times now, the idea of making up her own side, and fighting everyone at once was tempting her, but it would be stupid. One dragonborn against two armies, made up of fellow inhabitants of Skyrim. It would be suicide. And even if she did survive, she wasn’t certain her mental health would. It would be a terrible idea.

And yet, she hated both parties and how they behaved so much that she couldn’t help but think about that.

A dragonborn reuniting Skyrim.

She shook her head. That kind of thinking was only good for Miraak. She would have to find something else – but who besides asshole Nords would want to live in a Skyrim ran by the Stormcloaks ? And who wanted to submit to an empire that was losing more and more power every day, fighting for crumbs ? No one, really. It felt like Skyrim was losing itself.

She had to watch herself, as she realized that by the time she was thinking that she had almost downed an entire bottle, which would not help writing a letter back to Serana nor… just thinking in general. She grimaced. Getting drunk with Miraak in a nearby room was also probably a terrible idea. But getting drunk… she hadn’t had the freedom to do that in a while. She looked over to where she had put down the other alcohol she had bought today – well. Just a little couldn’t hurt. But only after she would be done writing that letter. That would be better than just not writing it because she was too drunk.

She went down to her room to grab ink, a quill, and paper, and started writing. She didn’t write anything excessively long, but she did inform Serana of most of the shenanigans she got up to in Solstheim. She did not mention, however, that she had tried to kill Miraak and that it kind of backfired a little – in fact, she simply wrote that she was currently gearing up for their fight, while not giving any details that could help her friend try to calculate when she’d get back to Skyrim. She still loved her to bits, but for now thinking about getting home made her too nervous to make any plans.

When she was done, she got outside – she could surely find someone to deliver that letter. She talked about it to Gjalund, the captain of the Northern Maiden, and he said he could surely find a messenger for her once he was back in Skyrim if she was willing to pay. Of course, she was, and she got back home content. Serana would hopefully be soothed, and she could get drunk.

It was sad, in a way, the dragonborn getting drunk in her kitchen, but she didn’t really stop to think about it. She didn’t even stop when it was technically time for dinner – she didn’t cook anything and hoped that the other guy wouldn’t come out wondering what was going on. He could cook for himself for all she cared. Did he know how to cook ? That was a good question. Did dragon priests need to cook. What kind of life did he have before becoming one ? How did dragon priests work anyway ? The only ones she had met before Miraak were undead, and she wasn’t sure he would answer her questions. After all there was probably a reason he rebelled against the dragons, besides just wanting more power for himself. Although she wouldn’t put it past him to only have that one goal.

Thinking about Miraak almost gave her a headache, figuratively speaking. He made no sense to her, and the fact that he wasn’t as… horrible ? arrogant ? as he had once been was strange. She wondered if he was aware of that.

She dwelt on these thoughts for a while, before thinking that it was mostly pointless anyway. And it was getting late. Maybe she could pick out some of the books she hadn’t read yet, take some wine to her room, and read and drink until she’d be too tired to do anything else but sleep. Sounded like a plan to her. She picked out some of the bottles from the kitchen (not the best ones, as that would be wasteful, but not the worst ones either as she tended to keep these to make vinegar), and headed down as silently as she could. Even drunk, she was still pretty stealthy, and she made it safely to her room without being heard. However, she had forgotten her glass upstairs, and had to make a second trip to take it to her room.

It was during said second trip that she fell down, having missed the last step of the stairs, and accidentally shrieked as she tried to _not_ let the glass fall too and shatter on the ground.

This last part was a success, but the noise she made had visibly deranged – or worried ? whatever – Miraak, who came out of his room with his infuriatingly calm way of walking. It was like he was never worried about anything. She turned towards him, having to look up towards the mask on top of the shifting robes. Hey, at least these were clean of blood now. She gave him a bitter smile and waved silently, before starting to try and get back up.

\- How did you even manage to fall down your own staircase ?

She wasn’t really steady in her getting up, and had a little bit of trouble with staying on her feet, but still managed to answer :

\- Good question, my dear, but I’m pretty sure you can answer that yourself.

She started walking towards her room when he blocked her path. Annoyed, she asked :

\- What do you want.

As his only response, he took her glass from her hands and smelled it. When he gave it back, not only didn’t he answer her question, but he went and asked something else :

\- How long have you been drinking ?

Alyssa rolled her eyes. It didn’t matter, and she tried shoving him to get to where she wanted. Unfortunately, he didn’t budge, as she was too drunk to truly be dangerous at this point. She couldn’t have seen it because of the mask, but he actually grimaced – for some reason, he didn’t enjoy seeing her like that. He assumed it must have been related to whatever the earlier letter contained, but he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what, besides maybe whatever it was that she had been putting off. Which didn’t help him, much.

\- Look, she said while slurring her words a little, if… if you want a drink, go grab a glass for yourself or something and leave me alone.

\- Drinking isn’t exactly on my mind right now, but thanks. I’m mostly just wondering what’s going on.

She gave him a rather surprised look, and stepped back a little.

\- What, you care for other people’s safety now ?

\- Let’s not use such broad words, shall we ? I just want to make sure I won’t wake up tomorrow with you in a coma.

She laughed, reminding him that she was the one who found him comatose first, and also that she was actually convinced he didn’t care much. No, she was actually quite certain he’d only watch her get so drunk she’d actually be sick and then laugh in her face – she wasn’t stupid and did realize that he had further goals than just being an agreeable guest. But still, she added, he could feel free to take his own glass and maybe get a drink too, if he only let her go to her room. He stepped aside, letting her go, as he said :

\- It’s interesting how hellbent you are on taking care of others, even when you don’t like them, while not even trying to take care of yourself is all.

She gave him the finger as she carried on walking to her room. She made herself comfortable on her bed, looking at what bottle she’d open now – she ended up choosing one randomly. She didn’t even hide her surprise when she heard gentle steps coming towards her, and Miraak with an empty glass. Who knew, maybe he was lonely too, although she wasn’t certain of that. She was still pretty convinced he was here to make fun of her, and his last remark had not helped his case, but she did tell him to grab a chair and sit down wherever he liked.

He decided that the other side of the bed, in her back, was a good idea. Probably because he’d need to take off his mask to drink, she thought. He didn’t seem keen on letting her a glimpse of what he might look like. Too bad. She passed him a bottle, and took out another one for herself. He didn’t say anything at this point, but she did hear him open it.

She leaned back a little, her back touching his. He didn’t seem to mind.

After some silence, she heard a chuckle from behind her, and Miraak’s voice, obviously amused but with a little side of disappointment, asked :

\- Can you believe it’s been so long since I drank anything that I can’t even tell when wine is good or not anymore ?

They both laughed a little – Alyssa a bit harder than him, and she asked him to pass the bottle back to check something. She looked at it, sniffed it – ah, yes, that one. She gave it back to Miraak.

\- It’s, uh, not _great_ great, but also not shitty, if you want to know. Hey, how long has it been since you haven’t drank any wine ?

\- About as long as I’ve been in Apocrypha… I don’t think I’ve taken any here before now.

\- Huh.

Alyssa took another sip of her own glass.

\- You were allowed to drink before… that whole thing ?

The wording was clumsy, but Miraak understood. He paused, thinking. These weren’t memories that he was particularly fond of, but then, was he truly fond of anything that had happened in his life so far ? He shook his head a little. The time wasn’t for self reflection. He answered :

\- Sometimes a little. I had more freedom than most people, and less, in some senses. But I did have to keep my head clear at all times, so I never drank enough to be drunk. Which did not interest me anyway.

\- Yeah, a lot of people aren’t interested by that. It’s wiser, I’m just an idiot.

\- Haven’t you said just the opposite earlier ?

She shrugged. Contradictions were a part of life for her, and she didn’t see anything wrong with calling herself both “not stupid” then “stupid”. She frowned, thinking that one other person who had remarked this strange habit of hers had been Serana – and the vampire did try to get her to stop. Maybe that was why she left. Alyssa wasn’t willing to try and change how she thought about herself and to care about herself. That, and the fact that she was reckless whenever she had her mind on something. This was bound to exhaust most people.

Alyssa didn’t hold it against Serana though. She had her own things to fight through, and she didn’t want to slow her down. If anything, she was glad that her ex-girlfriend was taking care of herself.

At least, Miraak didn’t seem to mind that she wasn’t exactly great at doing that. It made it easier.

\- I’m just saying that I’m an idiot in terms of wiseness, she attempted to explain. Like… I know things, I’ve been told I was smart, you get the idea. Doesn’t make me less stupid when it comes to actually using the stuff I know or, doing things. You know ?

\- I think I understand, at least in theory.

She chuckled.

\- What, that never happened to you ? Having bad ideas and doing them anyway ?

Miraak hesitated. Yes, that did happen to him (after all, this entire thing was a result of a terrible decision that he had been too arrogant to let go), but did he want to be sincere with her ? It couldn’t cost him much. It might even bring him a little trust from her.

Even when slightly confused, he was still trying to manipulate her.

\- How do you think I happened to fight you, Alyssa ? By having the very bright idea to defeat the dragonborn who has been prophesied to be the last and most powerful. I didn’t believe it and look what I’m doing now.

He filled his own glass again. He was not planning on getting drunk, unlike her, but maybe he would get to experience tipsiness for the first time. If that even was a worthwhile experience. He heard laughing from Alyssa – but it wasn’t mocking, really, but he couldn’t quite tell if it was pitiful, just surprised, disappointed, or a mix of all of these.

\- Fuck proph- pro- prophecies. Shit.

\- Are you all right ?

\- I’m _drunk_ , it’s a miracle that this hadn’t happened yet. Maybe the Divines want me to be understandable or some shit.

She clearly didn’t believe in that last sentence, but she was laughing about her own inability to speak without slurring her words now.

\- Honestly- I haven’t… haven’t been drinking a lot lately. Everything was too big and scary.

\- With the whole Alduin thing ?

\- ...who told you about that. I assumed you didn’t follow what was happening in Skyrim.

It was his turn to shrug then explain :

\- Oh, I don’t follow most of what happens, but I did keep track of whether or not you had killed him. If you were to reference anything else though, I don’t think I’d know what is going on currently. After all, I’ve been pretty concentrated on Solstheim.

She turned towards him, staring at his back. He resisted the urge to turn too, to see what she was going to do. He hadn’t put his mask back on. However, he could easily imagine the look she was giving him. He was starting to know what she looked like when she was caught off guard.

\- You _do_ know about the civil war at least, right ?

\- The what now ?

She stayed silent for a second, but she did end up whispering something that sounded a lot like “what the _entire_ fuck”, although her voice was low enough that Miraak couldn’t have been sure. He turned a little, just enough to see even more dismay in her face than at the usual things he’d say. That civil war must really mean something to her, he thought, but he mostly just sipped another bit of his glass before returning to his original position. She apparently hadn’t even registered that she was for an instant in perfect position to see his face – the fact that he didn’t know about the civil war had left her too dumbfounded.

He attempted to get her to talk about it.

\- So, what is this civil war about ?

He heard shifting, a small clinking noise, then heard her plop down on her bed. He couldn’t help but look at what she was doing – apparently she suddenly was very busy burying her head in her pillow in dismay. That was… interesting. The pillow acted as a muffle when she finally ended up answering :

\- The empire’s getting shitty and dumb and some Nords want independence but their leader is a dickhead. I hate all of them and I wish they’d just drop dead. But I can’t exactly just go murder them, and also I drank _just_ to forget about them so can we drop that.

Pensively, Miraak put down one of his hands on her shoulder, patting her hesitantly – as he had seen her do once for him. He wasn’t certain how she would react to the gesture, but to his relief she didn’t seem to hate it. Oddly enough, it seemed to relax her a little.

As he finished his glass of wine, he looked back at the bottle he had been given, before deciding to use the cork to close it as he hadn’t drank all of it – and wasn’t planning to. He heard Alyssa groan when he removed his hand from her shoulder, but not much more. She seemed to be half asleep already. As he got down from her bed, he put the bottle down near the one Alyssa had finished earlier, as well as took his mask. He didn’t bother putting it back on for the time being, and when he got back to the room he was borrowing, he actually set it down on a table near his bed.

He wouldn’t use it again until the next morning.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY I forgot to update it yesterday. Even if I was trying to update every Monday.  
> Hope you'll enjoy the slightly delayed update :)
> 
> (i say i attempt to update every Monday as if I wasn't certain the posting wouldn't catch up with the writing. tbh it WILL catch up eventually and suddenly the updates probably won't be weekly ^^")

The next morning, Miraak found Alyssa in her kitchen, visibly brooding over a cup of tea. She had apparently taken out jam and bread, but nothing else to actually cut the bread and put jam on it – he suspected that she might have been too tired to think about it, or might have a massive headache, considering the amount of wine she had drank the night before. He grabbed two knives, one for the bread and one for the jam, and set them down in front of her. She grunted something that amounted to a mix between “thanks” and “please don’t make so much noise”, but ended up sounding more like “than-ooooooooooh fuck”.

He smiled under his mask, amused, and went to pour himself a cup of tea. After all, she had left the kettle on top of the fire, so there was surely still enough for him to get a cup. He was right. When he got back, he cut himself a piece of bread, and while spreading jam over it, he casually said :

\- Hungover ?

\- Nah, I just got run over by an oxen cart.

She clearly was less amused by the whole thing than he was, and stared at him while he prepared his breakfast. She wasn’t used to him staying beyond said preparation – he usually went to go eat alone in his room – so the fact that when he was done, he actually folded his hands and stayed there. Sitting down. Staring. Visibly waiting for something.

\- ...are you waiting for me to ask what you want.

\- Maybe.

She groaned, more and more annoyed by the second, and ended up muttering that he was really an asshole. She did not ask what he wanted, but that seemed to please him enough, and he proposed :

\- Do you want that headache taken care of, maybe ?

\- Yeah, right, because people can heal a fucking hangover, and that’s common knowledge.

Her tone was very sarcastic, and it took her a little bit to realize that he was actually serious. It took her long enough, in fact, that he started snickering and asked :

\- You mean you’ve never met a healer who can do that ? Alyssa, alcohol is basically a poison, and a hangover is an effect of it just as much as being drunk is. It works just like curing any other poison.

\- You _have_ to be kidding me.

\- I’m not.

Alyssa passed a hand through her hair, a mix of exasperation and exhaustion fighting on her face. She looked around, and he saw her pinch herself to check whether or not she was dreaming. She wasn’t.

\- You- you mean to tell me I’m the archmage of Winterhold and I don’t know a hangover can be healed.

\- You’re an archmage ?

He was visibly surprised, and thought for an instant that he might have underestimated her magical abilities as much as he had generally underestimated her before their fight.

\- ...that’s a long story and it’s mostly honorific if I’m honest. I still can’t use magic for shit.

He did his best not to laugh, but to no avail. At this point, staying with her was too entertaining to be cut short, and he decided that wherever she might go afterwards, he would follow if she’d let him. There was no way he was missing the kind of shenanigans that make someone an archmage even though they’re terrible at magic. He cracked a rib from his laughter, which did not help his case as half of his were already broken, as Alyssa just put her head in her hands, waiting for him to calm down. This was definitely not helping with her headache, but she’d have to put up with it if she wanted help with the hangover. Then she realized :

\- Hey, wait, did you finally heal your ribs or something ? If you can heal a hangover surely you can do your ribs ?

Miraak was laughing too hard to answer straight away, but he did manage to give her a dismissive gesture with a hand, which didn’t really mean anything to her. When he finally calmed down, he explained :

\- Didn’t heal anything on me, everything hurts right now. And, yes, I could.

His breath was still rather short from all the laughing – and maybe also from the pain. It didn’t matter much, though, as he got a hold of himself and apologized.

\- It’s just the first time I’ve ever heard of an archmage that was inept at magic.

\- There’s a first for everything, mister “I’m the first dragonborn”.

He chuckled, but didn’t get back into a laughing fit again. Instead, he actually extended his arm to cup Alyssa’s face with his right hand, and a gentle warmth surrounded her. The headache receded, and she felt everything more clearly, as if she never had a hangover in the first place. Then, apparently pleased with his work, Miraak took the bread knife and presented it to Alyssa. She grabbed it as she thanked him, still a little stunned.

As she cut her own piece of bread, she didn’t even realize when Miraak put down his mask to eat and drink his tea. She only saw his face when she looked up to search for the jam knife, and that was startling enough to stop her in the middle of her action for a second.

He had a chiseled face, with quite a bit of scars most likely coming from that time he fought several dragons at once. But the most striking things weren’t those, or the slight smile that was floating on his lips, no, the most striking thing Alyssa saw on his face were his eyes. They were a cold, harsh steel grey, that reminded her of a blade - and they weren't human, either. Everything in them was reminiscent of a dragon.

She looked away as fast as she could to find that stupid knife. She assumed Miraak wasn’t taking the mask off just for fun and probably wouldn’t like staring, but something in these cold grey eyes made her uncomfortable. She didn’t even dare to look at his face again while she finally found the knife and put some jam on her piece of bread.

\- Something wrong ?

He was taunting, and clearly amused by the whole thing. Alyssa halted her movement and looked at him with annoyance, and pointed the knife at him.

\- You don’t get to taunt me because you’re pretty.

\- But you recognize I’m pretty.

Alyssa groaned in response as Miraak chuckled at his own joke. Grumpily, the woman finished putting jam her bread slice, and then grumbled something that vaguely resembled :

\- You’re infuriating.

The man, who had heard her perfectly, broadened his smile. With a definite hint of laughter in his voice, he replied :

\- I have been told so numerous times, you know. But rarely by people who have decided I’m worth helping.

She shrugged. She didn’t really know if it was meant as a compliment or a simple remark, but she didn’t have anything to answer to it – which let him continue on a completely different subject.

\- I have been wondering, have you been trained to use the Voice properly or are you doing it instinctively ?

\- I didn’t feel like sitting on my butt for forty years with some old dudes and a dragon so, uh. You can guess. Don’t get me wrong, I like Paarthurnax and the Greybeards, I just… don’t feel like meditating all day. I need to be moving.

Miraak froze at the mention of Paarthurnax. He looked to his side, as if he was unsure of what to say, and asked :

\- Paarthurnax… is still alive ?

Alyssa nodded, and finished her piece of bread. She remembered the letter she had received from Serana the day before – it did mention that Paarthurnax knew of Miraak, so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that the reverse was also true. However, the man was frowning as if Paarthurnax being still alive was quite an inconvenience. She had no idea what had happened between them, but she wouldn’t put a petty conflict past either of them. Paarthurnax was kind, but still a dragon, and Miraak… well. Was Miraak.

Eventually Miraak shrugged.

\- Doesn’t matter. What matters is, he hasn’t trained you much.

Alyssa nodded again, getting slightly suspicious. Surely he wasn’t just saying that to make the conversation. There had to be something else behind that. He kept going.

\- And maybe you could use someone who knows more about the Voice than you and could teach you… and they could, you know, stay with you instead of asking you to “sit on your butt” as you put it.

\- _Really_ now ?

This was spoken in the manner of a statement more than a question, but Miraak brushed the sarcasm off.

\- Why, yes. And you could do pretty much anything with such a power. I think I remember -

Oh boy, here it came. She braced herself for something completely megalomaniac and unreasonable.

\- I remember you saying you hated both parties of that civil war going on in Skyrim yesterday ? You could absolutely destroy both of them. Single-handedly.

She didn’t even try not to laugh. Apparently he was coming from the idea that she never considered it, or didn’t even make plans to apply that, and didn’t reject any of her previous ideas. And he thought he was giving her the answer on a silver platter, all the while getting that teacher stance and technically gaining power over whatever she might be doing – because of course he would not stay hidden behind her if she was doing anything like “taking over Skyrim”.

Her reaction did surprise Miraak though, and for once he was the one looking at her slightly dumbfounded. He didn’t think that it was so far-fetched, but to him it did prove that she didn’t know anything about the potential power of a dragonborn. He was going to add something before she stopped him with a movement of the hand.

\- No, don’t, she said while still laughing. I thought of this before, it’s stupid. I’m not doing that.

He raised an eyebrow.

\- I don’t see anything stupid in-

\- I don’t want to hear it ! Stop.

Miraak sighed, sipping some of his tea. Well, if she would rather stay mediocre, who was he to tell her what to do ? She could be more ambitious, sure, but he couldn’t exactly force her. He already knew what kind of disaster could happen by fighting her.

Like getting stuck in her house.

It was definitely better than Apocrypha, but also way smaller, and even if he (probably) didn’t have to worry about Mora looking over his shoulder at all times he now had to consider Alyssa’s feelings, apparently. He was never very good at doing that, but he mostly didn’t need to as a dragon priest. Which didn’t really matter now…

Defeated for now, but surely not less determined to sway Alyssa to his side, he excused himself with what was left of his cup of tea, and went down to his room. He had to think a little – and maybe take a nap. He had not slept a lot since he was back, as the nightmare he had on his first night here seemed to repeat often. At least he wasn’t throwing random shouts anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

Not even an hour after her conversation with Miraak, Alyssa heard a knock on her door. She was still upstairs, playing on her lute a little, wondering what could lead Miraak to try and convince her to take over Skyrim. She sighed, put her lute down and went to open the door.

It was Frea. Alyssa surely didn’t expect her to come check up on her, and definitely didn’t want her to, because she didn’t want to lie about the whole situation but knew Frea would hate it. As the dragonborn let her in, proposing a cup of tea, the Skaal must have sensed that something was wrong, as she barely greeted her and refused the tea before asking :

\- Is he dead yet ?

Alyssa took a deep breath. Shit.

\- That’s. Kind of complicated.

\- It’s a yes or no question, Alyssa. There’s no complicated to be had.

The dragonborn opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. To no avail. She didn’t find words on how to explain whatever happened, because she didn’t remember anything beyond “I was going to kill him when I suddenly woke back up in the real world and he wasn’t dead, and I didn’t kill him and I’m not sure why”. She was also quite certain that Frea would not take that as a valid answer and she just hoped the Skaal wouldn’t want to fight her because of it. That would be messy and-

\- So ? insisted Frea.

Again, a deep breath.

\- No. He’s not dead. Something came up and he’s not dead, but he’s not a threat anymore, for whatever it’s worth.

Frea’s expression turned to stone. Ouch. It was at least better than what Alyssa had expected, but it wasn’t a good sign either.

\- Look, she tried to explain, I-

\- You had _one_ job, and you were the only one who could do it, and you’re telling me that you have made Herma-Mora kill my father just to let Miraak run free ? Really ?

She was putting her hand on her sword now, ready to draw it. Alyssa was unarmed, and had no armor on, but she knew she could still defend herself if needed – she wasn’t a dragonborn for nothing. Still, she hoped that it wouldn’t come to fighting.

\- I wouldn’t do that if I were you, said a calm voice behind Alyssa’s back. You have to realize that if I’m not dead, it’s clearly not a fault of power on her part. I am not quite sure I could win a second fight against her, and I’m definitely sure you wouldn’t survive a hostile encounter with her.

Miraak was here, empty cup of tea in hand and mask on his face, although the last dragonborn was certain that he was smiling underneath it. She could tell it by his voice. Frea on the other hand was utterly horrified. How could such a disgusting person stay in the same room as Alyssa without being dead ? She didn’t understand.

Still, Miraak had just saved Alyssa the hassle of having to explain to Frea that if you attack a dragonborn, you usually die. Usually. He walked past the both of them, and said :

\- But yes, as long as she acts as a jailor with me here, you won’t have to worry about me.

Frea begrudgingly withdrew her hand from her weapon, and Alyssa hurriedly said :

\- I’ll probably bring him to Skyrim, anyway. I don’t want to take any risks here-

\- You realize he’ll be a threat to your own home then ?

Frea was glaring at Miraak as he was refilling his cup, humming some song that he was probably the only one to know. Alyssa flailed her arms a little, embarrassed, and just asked :

\- What, so you’d rather have him run free here and hurt or kill more people ?

\- I would not mind that, remarked the man.

He was done filling his cup, and started going back downstairs as Alyssa replied with barely contained annoyance :

\- I was _not_ talking to you.

He was still humming that song, and waved them goodbye as he went back to his room. Alyssa was very close to just putting her face in her hands in desperation, but at least it seemed to send to Frea the message that this cohabitation wasn’t completely wanted. Still, the Skaal couldn’t just let that pass easily.

She straightened her back with resolve.

\- I am not going to attack you, Alyssa, but know at least that you will not be welcome in our village until you either kill him and bring proof or die. You’ve done too much harm.

Alyssa nodded, understanding.

\- I am well aware of that.

The other woman sighed, then left, without even really saying goodbye.

The last dragonborn just sat down on the ground. Once again, everything was wrong and it felt like she didn’t have power over anything that happened. If only she could be better at trying to help. If only she hadn’t saved Miraak- why did she even do that ?

She didn’t have a clue.

This, and the fact that she had just said she’d bring him to Skyrim – meaning that she would have to drag him around while she didn’t even ask Miraak if he was okay with that – and the letter from the day before that reminded her of what she had agreed upon during that reunion to settle a temporary truce between the two warring factions of the civil war, and that stupid proposition the other dragonborn had made… she felt like she was drowning and yet all of it was of her own making.

If she just hadn’t had the great idea of coming back to Skyrim three years prior, she would probably never have realized she was dragonborn, she wouldn’t have had to take care of Alduin, and she wouldn’t be here lamenting over whatever was happening now.

Her head in her hands, she was trying to detangle the ball of yarn that seemed to be her life.

The first things sh would have to take care of now was trying to make sure Miraak didn’t hurt anyone. This would most likely mean becoming some kind of jailer for the rest of both of their lives. He was definitely annoying, but she could live with it.

The second thing was the whole civil war thing. Back when she was trying to trap Odahviing, she had managed (barely) to set both Imperials and Stormcloak upon an uneasy truce. However, she had also somehow managed to convince them to come back for another reunion if the truce held – to discuss real peace this time. She knew it wouldn’t work, they all knew it, and yet the General Tullius and Ulfric Stormcloak had accepted. Maybe they just wanted to throw insults at each other again and get back out angrier than ever, then send their soldiers out on even stupider grounds.

She realized she probably should explain to Miraak more about the civil war than she had previously done if she was planning on taking him to Skyrim. That was probably easy.

However, going for a “peace” summit and getting back out without making a declaration of war upon both Imperials and Stormcloaks would be the harder part.

Why was it that dealing with someone who attempted to kill her was easier than not declaring war on people ?

She almost didn’t hear the light step of Miraak coming from behind her – probably to refill his cup of tea again, she thought when she noticed, but she was surprised to sense a hand gently set down on top of her head. She unburied her face from her hands, looking to her side. He was squatting near her, cup in one hand, while the other was in fact on her head. It seemed like he hadn’t taken his mask off again.

\- ...since when do you do that.

\- Since now. It seems like it’s something you would do to someone who feels bad. And you don’t look like you’re doing great.

She shrugged, thanking him for remarking it at least. She briefly explained what that was all about – mostly the civil war problems, actually, and trying to avoid the subject of, well, him. As she spoke, he attempted several times to drink his tea, apparently forgetting that he had his mask on. She couldn’t resist but poking it at one point.

\- Maybe you should take it off if you really want to drink, you know. I don’t mind either way, it just seems more practical.

He nodded in agreement, but said that it was an old habit and that he would just drink later. Afterwards, he remarked :

\- I know I can’t be of much help about Skyrim, since I know next to nothing about it, but I still think you could be successful at fighting all of them if you wanted to.

\- Yep, and that’s exactly what I’d rather not do.

He thought for a second.

\- For how long have they been at a stalemate ?

\- Not sure. I was just born in 176 when it started… seeing as we’re in 204 ? I think they’ve been at a stalemate for a few years at least, and I didn’t help with the whole truce thing.

That made Miraak chuckle. It seemed to him as if nothing would move for quite a while (from a regular person’s point of view) unless Alyssa took one side or the other – or maybe her own entirely, so her refusal to take any part in it for now was… interesting, to say the least.

He didn’t try, however, to push her towards a choice again. This was clearly not a good time for it. Instead, he just told her that if she needed help with anything regarding the Voice, he didn’t have much to do right now, besides maybe checking out her book collection and seeing if there was anything he had missed. Like maybe all of Skyrim’s history. Or the Empire’s history.

\- You really haven’t followed anything that happened outside of Solstheim, eh ?

\- No. Didn’t see why I should have.

She smiled, and got up, taking Miraak’s hand in hers to get him to stand too.

\- I didn’t brought any books on the Empire or Skyrim here, she started, but I do have some… well, back in Skyrim. I could give them to you whenever we go there – if you want to.

He looked at her hands, calloused from days of training and fighting. He understood that underneath the book offer, there was just a little more than that. Friendship. Hidden under his mask, he smiled. It was pretty new to him, but why not. He could try.

\- I’ll have to get on with healing all these broken ribs then.

\- You’re unbelievable.

But her smile as he had said his earlier sentence spoke what she truly thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's monday ! i didn't forget this time !


	8. Chapter 8

Alyssa was now determined to take Miraak to Skyrim, but some preparations had to be done. First of all, he couldn’t just walk around Raven Rock in his usual attire nor using his real name. Even if people didn’t know what he looked like, he looked suspicious enough that they might guess at his identity and be right : after all, a mask that looked a lot like a bunch of tentacles ? That was self-explanatory.

So they’d have to give him a false identity at least for the short walk from the Severin Manor to the Northern Maiden. After that, Alyssa wasn’t sure whether or not Gjalund would ask questions about this new companion… besides the Skaals, there weren’t many Nords on Solstheim, and passing Miraak for one of them was out of the question. As Frea had remarked when she came by, Alyssa had done enough harm as it was. She did, however, search for a name and maybe a backstory that might fit. The first dragonborn found this particularly amusing, and together they settled for a mercenary that had come to Solstheim by other means than the particular boat they’d take and who had been quite a loner during his time on the island.

They also needed clothes for him to look believable as a mercenary, but it seemed like Alyssa had it covered. Her collection of clothes and armors was quite impressive, and he wondered how exactly she came across it – did she just loot just about anyone she killed ? Or did she steal things ? Or both ? When he did ask, her only answer was a slightly amused smile. There were also enough weapons to make any bandit jealous, in which Miraak was able to choose something that resembled what he was used to yielding before. The weapons that he had used during their fight would be hidden among other objects brought by Alyssa, to avoid suspicion.

Then came the question of geography.

Besides Windhelm, which Miraak knew of only by name as he solely knew that was where the Northern Maiden came from, Alyssa told him about every city she’d been to in the country. She also pointed out who was the jarl of each of them, their territories, and who was siding with which side in the civil war. When she explained Balgruuf’s stance on the whole thing, Miraak made a mental note that he might be a good place to go if they ever needed help going against everyone else, but did not say it out loud. After all, she had rejected the idea for now.

With a map of Skyrim, he could also trace part of Alyssa’s travels around : she seemed to always mark down when she discovered something new, and several ruins and caves were marked around the whole country. Sometimes, a note was scrawled in messy handwriting, such as “fucking vampires” under “Castle Volkihar” or “grandpa?” under the summit of the Throat of the World. Interested, Miraak asked :

\- Who’s grandpa ?

Alyssa stopped for a second, trying to understand what he was getting at- when she realized that he was still looking at the map she lent him. Right. She smiled, amused, and said :

\- That’s Paarthurnax. Don’t worry about it though, I’m not going to force you to talk to him if you don’t like him.

\- Oh. Right.

She poked him playfully, saying that if there was a feud between them, she’d rather not get in the middle of it. And, well, the Greybeards probably wouldn’t let him climb up anyway.

\- Ah ? Why not ?

She shrugged.

\- They don’t want him to get killed, I think. Which is fair, considering that I do know people who would love to murder him, but that’s not in my plans. Unless he suddenly starts murdering people first, I guess.

\- And have you tried to reason with these people ?

Alyssa laughed, and started rolling up the map before answering.

\- Yeah, go tell Delphine, who’s been pretty much ecstatic about finding a dragonborn to go kill some dragons, _not_ to kill a dragon. She’ll say it’s for the greater good or some shit.

She then patted Miraak’s cheek as best she could with his mask on, and went on about something else – the fact that they needed a fake name for him on top of the fake backstory and the clothes. If they didn’t have that, they didn’t have a full fake identity for him, technically.

It took them a little bit of back and forth (mostly to try to find something innocuous), but they ended up settling on Bjorn. It wasn’t a very far-fetched name and would make for an absolutely normal and random traveler.

They would take the Northern Maiden the next time it’d settle in Raven Rock’s port, which was most likely a few days away. During that time, Alyssa did prepare some money just in case Gjalund or someone in his crew started asking too many questions, but she mostly just told Miraak about where they would most likely be headed : first Whiterun to greet some friends of her (namely, the jarl Balgruuf, and Lydia), then a manor that she owned in Falkreath. After that, she didn’t have any plans, so she could probably take him pretty much wherever.

\- What about meeting the person who had sent you this letter a few days ago ? proposed Miraak.

\- First of all : did you read it while I had my back turned and do you know anything about her, second of all : no. She’ll definitely make fun of me. She’s great but that’s also just a terrible idea for now. Third of all : why ?

He shrugged, stating that as he didn’t know anyone besides her right now, it would be a good idea to talk to people she knew. And what could go wrong with someone who was clearly in good enough terms with her to send a letter inquiring of her health ?

Alyssa’s look, half-embarrassed, half-annoyed (probably) at him, was enough for him to understand that some things could go wrong at least. She then just poked him on the chest, and said :

\- You’re definitely not meeting my ex anytime soon.

Ah, so that was why. He didn’t know much about dating, as he never really had much time for it, but it seemed as if the fact that she kept contact with someone that had once been close enough to her to date meant that the “making fun of” she mentioned probably encompassed wildly embarrassing things. He smiled. Yes, that ex would probably be a goldmine of information on Alyssa. He was definitely going to meet her as soon as he could.

\- What kind of person is she, anyway ?

Miraak was quite nonchalant about the whole thing, which annoyed Alyssa further. She sighed, before describing Serana as a generally great person to be around, friendly, and even funny when she was relaxed. But relaxed wasn’t her general state since, well, people tense up around vampires, and Serana was a vampire, which usually made things a bit complicated. Still, according to Alyssa, she also had a great deal of bravery (but not the kind that became dangerous for oneself unless it was really needed), and sometimes even she could be very poetic. With the way she spoke, Miraak could feel that they had indeed shared quite a deep bond, which surprised him a little. As he had seen her reluctance in staying put, he had kind of assumed that this would reflect on relationships – not that it really mattered. He was mostly interested in getting to know Serana to see if she knew anything of use to him about the last dragonborn.

Alyssa seemed very animated as she spoke of her ex-girlfriend, and let it slip that if Serana and Miraak met one day, the vampire would probably make fun of her specifically for “liking old people”. At this, the man tried to question her a little bit more :

\- Wait. How old is she ?

\- Oh, a few thousands I think-

Alyssa stopped mid-sentence, looking away and pretty much turning her back on Miraak – although he was almost certain he saw her blush for some reason.

\- I won’t be elaborating further on that, she muttered.

\- Really ? This was getting interesting.

\- Nope, no, moving on. It’s late, I should go to bed, bye !

She then hurried on to her room, murmuring something that Miraak didn’t quite catch. At least he had something to think of tonight while he would, as usual, wait for sleep and nightmares. He hated these, but it felt like they were inescapable, and so he would usually end up going to bed as late as he could to avoid having them for too long. He knew he’d always wake up in the middle of one of them at least…

Alyssa had asked about his apparent lack of sleep once. According to her, when he wasn’t wearing his mask, he looked quite tired – another reason to wear it. When she had remarked so, however, he had retreated in his room for the entire day, even avoiding meals. When he finally got back out, she didn’t ask again, and just said she was glad he was here.

These kind of sentences that she’d sprinkle on sometimes, especially when she was in a good mood, always threw him a little bit off. He did understand that she pretty much considered him a friend, but wasn’t certain of what it entailed. Was this part of the deal ? And that whole blushing thing earlier. Was that friendship too or was she just weird ?

In fact, he thought as he sprawled into his bed, that whole conversation earlier was somewhat weird. This Serana seemed to be, in Alyssa’s opinion, a very capable person, so the protectiveness of “you’re not allowed to meet her” made no real sense. That, and that remark about-

Oh.

Oh, of course.

Well. That surely would make things interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops I was going to bed and then I remembered that it's Monday. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter :D


	9. Chapter 9

Alyssa didn’t sleep the whole night before their intended leaving time. She couldn’t – while she did start to like Miraak as a person somehow (maybe because he was way more agreeable when not trying to kill her), she wasn’t sure he wouldn’t try to backstab her. The boat ride also was worrying, as bringing who seemed to appear out of nowhere wasn’t exactly normal, even with a shoddy backstory and a fake name.

On top of that, she had to deal with feelings she’d quite frankly rather shove down, because they would most likely be incredibly dangerous. Sure, a crush was a harmless thing that could fade over time, and she really hoped that was just it, but in the meantime it was quite annoying as it somewhat interfered with her plans of keeping an eye on him without compromising herself too much. Because now she considered him, at least, a friend. And you can’t just… be a friend’s jailer like that.

When morning came, she grabbed her things while Miraak was busy not looking like he usually would. Even then, the clothes and armor they had picked out for him did contain a helmet, so he could technically hide his face a little. She tried not to look too much- the bastard _was_ handsome, which definitely didn’t help, but it seemed as if he almost made a point to talk to her about what the boat ride entailed just to keep her around. At one point, she just ended up asking :

\- Are you really afraid of taking a boat ? Considering everything else that has ever happened in your life ? You ride _dragons_ , damn it.

\- Yes, but I’ve never been on a _boat_. It can’t be the exact same.

\- ...it is different, it’s just… I promise it’s not that bad. I find it pretty relaxing, personally.

He definitely wasn’t convinced, but let the subject go. Whatever riding a boat was like, he would discover it pretty soon anyway. Alyssa just hoped he wouldn’t get seasick, as she’d probably never hear the end of it.

When they got out of the Severin Manor, Miraak was actually surprised at actually seeing the outside for the first time in thousands of years. He was used to the dull green light of Apocrypha and the interior lights of Alyssa’s home, so even when hidden by the cloud of smoke, the sun seemed quite bright to him. The smell of the ashes and of the sea were something to behold, too, as they made quite the interesting mix. It all made him forget about the boat trip, until he was sitting upon it as Alyssa was paying Gjalund extra for bringing a friend.

She sat down near him as the boat departed from Raven Rock, and they both watched it become much smaller. However, it did not take long for Miraak to feel sick. As he was trying not to make it too obvious, he saw Alyssa just taking a nap there on the boat.

He sighed. Great. He was seasick, while he probably could have just forced some random dragon to take him to Skyrim with minimal problems, and now the one person who might have explained to him how to deal with that was asleep. He closed his eyes, trying to get used to the dizziness, but that wasn’t particularly useful. On top of that, after a few minutes, he started getting nausea – and waking Alyssa up was out of the question.

This would be a very long boat ride.

After a while, he did end up asking one of Gjalund’s men how long the ride would take, and the man joked :

\- Getting sick of waiting already ?

\- Quite literally, groaned Miraak. I just want to know how long I’ll feel like my intestines are having the worst day of their lives.

The sailor laughed, and told him that Skyrim was only about eleven hours away by now, as they’d been out on the sea for an entire hour. Albeit grumpily, Miraak thanked him for the information, but the deck-hand added :

\- You know, most people who get sick at sea try to look as far away on the horizon as possible – while standing up. Seems like most people feel worse by lying down somehow.

\- It doesn’t feel like I could stand up without, hmm. Getting even more sick.

The other man shrugged, saying that he wasn’t the one who was sick anyway. On the other hand, unless people were already sailors, he actually found people able to sleep the way Alyssa did quite rare. It was as if she was just capable of passing out to make time go faster. After that, the sailor went back to his work.

The next ten or so hours were kind of a torture for Miraak. He did try to get up and walk around a few times, which helped quite a bit as the deck-hand had predicted, but reading anything that he had brought was impossible and he did not feel like making conversation with anyone on the boat. Not that they were much of a conversation anyway, as they were busy. He tried to keep himself entertained by looking around, as the clouds would shift and change, and the light was getting brighter as they sailed away from Solstheim. On top of that, it was getting colder, and he was glad he had accepted to don an armor that would have been definitely too warm to run around with in Raven Rock. But even the marine landscape would get old after some time, and he just kept his eyes on the growing Skyrim shores.

Soon now it seemed, they’d be in Windhelm, and he would be on absolutely unknown territory. He wondered what the place looked like, as he’d never been there in person, and hoped that Alyssa knew the town a little. She was still asleep.

In fact, she only woke up because Gjalund shook her firmly as they arrived in Windhelm, which made Miraak cackle a little. As the boat was now unmoving, he was already starting to feel a little better, and seeing Alyssa’s face as she woke up was priceless. It seemed like she was absolutely clueless as to where she was, and took just a few seconds to go “Ah yes, right, Windhelm”. They both got off the boat, and she yawned and stretched before walking a little on the docks.

The sun had set for about an hour now, and as they walked, Miraak wondered if Alyssa would even be capable sleeping during the night.

\- Do you sleep on boats like that often ? he asked, curious.

\- Boats, carriage rides… anything like these, I’m usually asleep yeah. Not you ?

His grimace showed that he did not have a good time, but he didn’t elaborate for the time being. Instead, he asked whether they would be spending the night in Windhelm or if she was planning to keep going. Alyssa shrugged, saying that since he seemed like he didn’t exactly have the best time of his life on the boat, they should probably rest. She admitted that she didn’t know Windhelm very well, but at least knew that there was an inn near the city gates. Should they have at least a room, Miraak would probably be able to get some sleep.

\- What about you ? Not sleeping tonight ?

\- Oh, I definitely will ! Don’t worry about it.

Miraak raised an eyebrow, but didn’t add anything, and let her lead the way through the town. It was definitely convoluted, and Alyssa seemed lost more than half of the time while they were walking. By sheer luck, they finally found the Candlehearth Hall after circling around all of Windhelm for about forty minutes.

When they got inside and asked for two rooms, however, they were told that only one was available. Alyssa looked to Miraak to check if he was okay with that, and he just shrugged in response. Spending a night in the same room as Alyssa probably would not pose a problem, given that it may have two beds.

Unfortunately, once they had paid and that they went into the room, there was predictably only one bed. And not just that, but a bed only big enough for one person unless they’d either be piled up or in each other’s arms.

\- Well, started Alyssa, that’s a bit unexpected. I should still have a bed roll somewhere in my bag if you don’t feel like sharing that bed though…

Miraak shrugged, stating that as long as he could rest a little he did not care, and that if she did have a bedroll she should feel free to use it. As Alyssa sat down on the ground and started looking for the bedroll in her bag, her friend decided to take the armor she had lent him off. Even when he wasn’t in armor, he’d rarely sleep in the clothes he had used during the day if the mask wasn’t counted, and had borrowed pants from Alyssa specifically for sleeping some time ago. The last dragonborn suddenly searched harder in her bag as he was changing clothes.

But as a few minutes passed and Miraak had folded his clothes to put them in his own bag and had even settled down onto the bed, Alyssa had come to the conclusion that she had forgotten her bedroll in Solstheim. It would have been fine if the island wasn’t an entire boat ride away, but here she was. She sighed wearily. She always forgot something anytime she set out to travel, and this time proved no different. She’d probably have to buy one later.

\- Do you think I should wear that armor again tomorrow ? asked Miraak, interrupting her thoughts.

\- I. Well. I mean, Gjalund probably knows people in Windhelm, so, if you wouldn’t mind… yes ? I know I’m probably paranoid about this, but I’d just rather be safe than have everyone on Solstheim know about you not being dead.

Miraak hummed to signify that he had heard her, and they both fell silent.

Alyssa still hoped that she hadn’t forgotten the bedroll and she started taking every single item out of her bag to make sure of it. Weapons, potions, and miscellaneous items littered the floor before she surrendered to the idea that yes, she definitely did forget the bedroll. She groaned in annoyance as she started to put everything back, and she heard a chuckle from the bedside of the room.

\- Are you laughing at me ?

She had no answer besides him laughing again at her dismay, harder this time. She quickly finished putting everything back, red as a tomato, and she then stood up and walked towards him.

He was laying on his side, and had apparently been enjoying the entire show. He looked at her with absolute amusement, and his smile did not even fade when she tried to tell him off for mocking her. He did try to defend himself that he had seldom seen anyone so unwilling to admit that they’d forgotten something and that he found this incredibly funny. On top of that, he decided that complimenting her on the lovely shade of red that her face had taken was a very good idea.

She squatted down to get on his level, and asked :

\- What do you think you’re doing, taunting me like this ?

\- Good question. I’m not quite sure myself.

Alyssa sighed, rolling her eyes, and shoved him playfully. He rolled on his back to escape, taking all of the room that the bed could offer, and made himself comfortable. As he did so, she poked his shoulder, complaining :

\- That’s not funny.

\- It’s a little funny.

She shook her head. Whenever he was teasing like that, it was hard to remember that he was not exactly a good person and that he did attempt to kill her just a few weeks earlier. She wondered if he ever had the chance to behave like that with anyone else before, but decided to leave the thought aside. She probably would never know. She sighed, and told him to cut it out, before getting back up and informing him that she was going to change. He had the decency to look at the ceiling instead of her.

\- We’ll have to find wherever the marketplace is in this town tomorrow, she said as she was undressing.

\- Oh ?

He seemed quite uninterested in running around in circles in Windhelm again.

\- Yeah, we both need sleeping bags. Unless you’d rather sleep directly in the snow ?

\- Couldn’t we just take a carriage somewhere.

She shrugged, even if that wasn’t visible from Miraak’s point of view, and said that they could if he wanted to keep wearing that armor he didn’t like until they got to Whiterun.

She suddenly paused when she thought of Whiterun, suddenly realizing that as Lydia occupied the guest room, they’d once again encounter an “only one bed” situation. Well, at least her bed was bigger than this one and would probably not include any forced piling up on each other or cuddling. That at least would avoid more awkwardness, probably.

Miraak didn’t seem to remark the sudden silence though, and surrendered to the armor argument. Even if he had chosen what he was wearing, he just was not generally fond of that kind of armor, and the sooner he could get rid of it the better.

\- Isn’t it dangerous to just sleep in the middle of the wilderness ? he asked.

\- Ehh. The worst that happened to me is getting woken up by a dragon. It’s fine.

That didn’t seem especially fine to him, but he didn’t add anything. Instead, he rolled over just as she was finishing putting on the tunic she wore at night, and said that they should probably find a way to see if the inn’s tenant didn’t have a map of the town. This way, they wouldn’t get lost again. She agreed, telling him to remind her in the morning because she probably would forget it over night. She then walked towards him.

\- Can’t you move over a little so I can get in ?

\- What happens if I say no ?

Alyssa rolled her eyes and pushed him over. She didn’t feel like sleeping directly on the ground like she had done during the day, even if it meant being in the same bed as Miraak, and she was definitely not going to let him annoy her into not sleeping in the bed. Fortunately, he let himself be pushed, as if he did not really care about that either. The more time passed, the more it seemed like he didn’t care about many things – or maybe he was just busy scheming ? Both could be true in Alyssa’s opinion.

She sat down on the bed, poking him again.

\- What are you thinking ?

He turned towards her, his grey eyes staring into hers for a few seconds, unyielding. He then answered that he was thinking that actually, even when they’d get to her manor in Falkreath, he probably wouldn’t open a book ever again – not even if it contained any information on what he had missed. Alyssa joked that he must have had enough of them in Apocrypha, and the look he gave her made even the possibility of a smile fade.

He turned away, facing the wall, and did not react when she put her hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. She did not even know if he really was receptive to touch. After a bit, he seemed to be a little less tense, and Alyssa felt that maybe she could just lay down next to him. The size of the bed would force her to stay close enough that _something_ would be touching.

She drifted off to sleep, her back touching against his, wondering what was going on in his head.

Miraak let the minutes, then the hour slip away as Alyssa slept seemingly peacefully. He could hear her regular, calm breathing, but it did not truly bring him any comfort. If anything, he was jealous – of what exactly, he wasn’t certain. Her ability to sleep so easily ? The fact that she had managed to overpower him in a fight ? The freedom she seemed to have in life and that he never truly achieved, no matter how powerful he had become ?

Was there anything even left for him in the world ? Even now, as he was theoretically free from Apocrypha (which he did not truly believe, as Hermaeus Mora was always watchful, and his dreams seemed to comfort that idea), he wasn’t actually free either. No matter how friendly and how little care she seemed to put to this task, Alyssa _was_ his jailer, and he needed a way out. For now, manipulating her into giving in to the simple dragon instinct to dominate, leading her to rule over Skyrim, did not seem feasible, and he had no plans.

He had never really wondered how much of what he had done was him trying to escape a life he did not enjoy, how much was him simply being an asshole, and how much was instincts given by the dragon blood – if he was correct in thinking that it must have had an influence. Who truly knew ?

He had stopped believing his dragon blood was a gift a long time ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and there was only one bed


	10. Chapter 10

When Alyssa awoke, a chilly wind was making its way into the bed, which suddenly seemed larger, and colder than the night before. Miraak was already up and dressed, staring at the outside from the open window. It was snowing. Not uncommon in Windhelm, but Miraak had not seen snow in thousands of years. He had one hand stretched out, trying to catch snowflakes in his hands the way a child would.

Seeing this, Alyssa couldn’t even get mad at how cold the room was now. She wasn’t quite sure how long he had been awake, but definitely long enough that the ground was cold and a bit of snow was actually starting to pile up in the first dragonborn’s hair and clothes – and in the room, too.

She stretched and yawned, trying to get herself to move in the cold. Chilly mornings were always kind of a challenge. Getting up, getting dressed, and doing things… She would much rather stay in warm bed sheets all day. Unfortunately the inn’s sheet weren’t the most welcoming, all things considered, and she got into her clothes and armor fairly quickly. Miraak still hadn’t moved away from the window, but he did greet her when she was done changing.

\- Enjoying the snow ?

That went without saying, but that did make him smile. He answered :

\- For now, but something tell me it will get old when we will have walked in it for long enough. Not to mention I might not get the opportunity to change back into my regular clothes in a hot place…

She smiled apologetically, but he didn’t seem to get angry at her for that. Instead, he beckoned her to come closer. She obliged, and did not expect him to pull her to him as he took one step away from the window, making it so that she took the place he was standing on a few seconds ago. He had one hand wrapped around her abdomen, while his other one was still full of snow.

\- Please tell me you’re not going to slam it on my head, she said.

He laughed, and assured her that he wouldn’t. Instead, he just asked her if she thought she could stand there for a little bit. She said she probably would be able to, but didn’t get why – until he approached the snow a little bit more, whispering several words in the dragon language, the air getting colder as he spoke. Meditating ? Was that what he had been doing ?

All of the words she heard were related to cold, and she suddenly understood that he had just coaxed her into stepping near the window to try and get her to meditate on snow and the cold for some reason.

She humored him, and tried to clear her thoughts to only think of one of the words he had given her. Her first thought settled, naturally, on Fo. Frost – quite fitting for the weather, and the base upon which the entire frost breath shout was built. Inadvertently, she whispered it as her breathing slowed. Even like this the word kept its power, and she saw mist freeze around her, much like when Miraak had whispered earlier. The difference of temperature between the outside and the last dragonborn holding her made the effect of the word all the more glaring.

Without realizing it, she had settled her breathing on his, as he was guiding her through the exercise. When she whispered “Fo” again, trying to take in all the meaning and strength of the word, they were both saying it in unison. They repeated the process a few times, the cold getting stronger anytime they’d breath out the word.

Then, slowly, Miraak let fall the snow that he had been holding in his hand the whole time, and withdrew from the window, leaving Alyssa quite stunned from the experience. She took a bit to get back her composure, enough time for Miraak to come close the window and start checking whether he had left anything in the room that should be packed.

\- Well, I’ll be damned, whispered Alyssa.

\- A problem ?

Somehow, an echo of the word could still be heard in his voice – something that didn’t stay in Alyssa’s. Maybe she would be capable of it, later. She shook her head, trying to explain :

\- No, nothing, I just… didn’t know meditating wasn’t just. Sitting on the ground thinking about words.

Miraak chuckled, and told her that although he did not always have the opportunity to do it regularly, whenever he had been able to meditate, he always rather tried to do so near something that reminded him of what he wanted to practice. It wasn’t just a matter of thinking to him, but feeling the word and repeating it. Sometimes it could be an entire shout. He had no idea how – or if – the topic of meditation had ever been brought up between Paarthurnax and her, but the way he did it always seemed natural to him.

\- But as you can guess, I haven’t done a lot of meditating as of late. Which doesn’t mean I didn’t practice. It’s just a bit different.

She nodded, but did not think wise to ask exactly what he’d been up to. Instead, she decided to pack her bag, and as they both finished preparing to leave, Miraak reminded her to get a map so they wouldn’t get lost this time. Alyssa rolled her eyes, and they walked out of the room.

The inn’s owner did indeed have a map that they could take, and they managed to find Windhelm’s marketplace pretty quickly. Alyssa was able to acquire two bedrolls, and some food to make sure they wouldn’t run out in the middle of their trip to Whiterun, as Miraak looked around. He seemed largely unnoticeable in Windhelm’s population, and tried his best to hide his glee at seeing snow again. However, when Alyssa went to fetch him to leave, he had been busying himself at making a very small snowman in one of the snowier places of the market. She smiled, appreciating to see him doing something like that – it was cute, in a way.

When Miraak finished his little snowman, he was surprised to see Alyssa right behind him, just observing – he had assumed she’d take a little bit more time to buy the bedrolls, and seemed just slightly embarrassed at his own antics. But as she just asked if he was ready to leave Windhelm and go on towards Whiterun, he was a little relieved that Alyssa definitely did not mind. He got up, and answered that yes, he was ready.

He was still not quite used to Alyssa’s kindness, but it definitely had some appeal to him. After all, because of it she might not be able to keep up the facade of the jailer for very long, and afterwards… if he rendered himself irreplaceable to her, he might earn more than freedom. And it would definitely be better in the short-term than trying to convince her to do something she didn’t want to do.

They walked out of Windhelm, and started traveling down the road that followed the White River.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is probably shorter than the last one ? To be honest I'm very inconsistent with chapter lengths lmao. The WIP file on my computer has reached 40k words though, so it should be at least a few weeks before posting catches over writing! Hope y'all enjoyed this one :)


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